Lost For Words
by Angelscribe
Summary: There she is, the embodiment of love, your Venus! - Geoff stands by Will as he attempts to win Jocelyn's heart, but will the would-be knight return the favour?
1. 1

**Lost For Words.******

Summary: Geoff Chaucer reflects on the woman in his life, how he came to win her heart and how someone will pay for what has been done to her.

1.

This was unheard of – it had never happened before. Not to him. Lost for words … certainly not a state with which he was familiar.

A writer by trade and with a particular gift for poetry no less, yet all his talents were rendered useless by one glance at this woman – nay, this _vision_. No matter how he tried, he could never do her justice with mere words. Of course, he could come up with something _pretty_, but that just wasn't enough. She deserved a tribute befitting her beauty, her intelligence, that inner light which lent such radiance to her and everyone whose path she crossed … Yet nothing could quite serve to capture her true essence – nothing that he had skill enough to find anyway. How could one person hold such power over him, Geoff Chaucer, the one and only self-proclaimed writer extraordinaire?

Geoff shifted slightly as he lay back in bed, one hand running through his tousled blonde hair before tucking itself beneath his head; his mind active in spite of his laid-back appearance. His gaze rested on the young woman still slumbering peacefully by his side, her head pillowed on his chest. She was imprinted on his mind and yet, he could not get enough of her – every glance revealed a new aspect of her beauty to him. Familiar as he was with it, he drank in the sight of her and smiled indulgently - her mane of lustrous dark red hair fell in soft waves around her as a fiery halo and long lashes closed over eyes he knew to be of stunning darkest emerald green. Entranced as he was, his free hand smoothed gently over creamy, silky soft skin and his smile slowly faded to be replaced by a grimmer look which he could not hide. 

She was beautiful and nothing would ever change that for him, but it pained him to see her otherwise perfect skin marred in such a way. For, as the blankets rode low across his hips and her bare back, they revealed to him the vicious welts of a whip imprinted on her flesh.

"Never again …" he whispered, his words a fervent promise. "I swear, by my life - never again."

The redhead stirred slightly in his arms even as she slept and he paused to see if she would awaken. She murmured incoherently, a faint tinge of fear crossing her features and he frowned to see it. She appeared to be dreaming and it was evident that the events of recent times still, understandably, weighed heavily on her mind.  He held her to him, stroking her hair soothingly and whispering to her, hoping to reassure her as she woke.

With a start, her eyes flew open and she tried to get up, struggling for breath as her heart and mind raced – full of the images of what she had been forced to endure.

"Easy, love …" Geoff said, quickly wrapping her in the blankets and taking her in his arms to hold her tightly. "You're safe here; I've got you and you're safe – he can't lay a finger on you now."

"Geoff!" she gasped, clutching at him as tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her face against his shoulder. "I thought … I mean, it seemed so real … I dreamt he came back and this time, he wasn't going to give up …"

"Ellena, I promise you, he has no choice but to give up for I shall never let him darken your door again. As long as I live, I'll be the one by your side and you need not fear him or anyone else. Words fail me when it comes to declaring how dear you are to me …" the poet began, but she interrupted him with a soft touch to his lips.

"Then there are only three words I need to hear from you …" she said, wiping away tears and looking up at him with a shadow of her usual smile.

"But …"

"I know you don't usually like to use them sparingly, but humour me." she teased, growing more confident as the memory of her dream was dissolved by the sunlight at the window and, more importantly, his protective presence. 

Realising what she meant, he grinned and lay back comfortably, drawing her with him. He looked down at her and reached out to gently tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear; momentarily distracted by a blackening bruise by her temple which he paused to kiss tenderly.

"I love you." he said simply, clear blue eyes trained on her to gauge her response.

"From you that means more than any poem." she whispered, "I love you too, Geoff."

She reached up to slip her arms around his neck and felt his around her waist, reassuring her enough to let her close her eyes again and relax. She didn't want to cause him further worry than she already had, but she couldn't help wincing as she tried to get comfortable – something made difficult by her injuries. She hoped that he hadn't noticed, but such a detail was unlikely to escape his sharp gaze. Nevertheless, he wanted to let her rest and so did not draw attention to the source of her pain – he merely swore to himself that the inflictor of her terrible wounds would not escape unpunished. No, this had gone too far to just be brushed aside lightly …  

*****

TBC …


	2. 2

2.

_Flashback_

"YEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!" screamed Wat in triumph, jumping up and down and grabbing Roland to get him to join in – he was always the most excitable of the group, but on occasions such as these, the rest were only too glad to follow his example.

"WOOHOOOOO! Go on, Will … er, Sir Ulrich!" cheered Roland, filled with pride in his young friend.

"Come on!" yelled Geoff, for once getting straight to the point as he threw his arms in the air in delight. The tall herald then turned to Kate, the tiny Scottish farris, spinning her around as she laughed and clapped excitedly with the rest of them.

They all ran to greet the victorious jouster, hugging him and banging him on the back as he clambered off his horse and tugged off his battered helmet to reveal a shock of unruly blonde hair and a broad grin plastered on his face.

"Did you see that?" he demanded gleefully, "BAM! Right off his horse!"

"Of course we saw!" retorted Kate, "Why else would we be jumping up and down like lunatics?"

"We-ell …" began Geoff with a sidelong glance at Wat, only earning himself a clip round the ear from the hot-tempered redhead who was always quick to take offence.

However, the would-be knight was not to be distracted. "And what of my lady?"

"What of her?" murmured Kate, but her remark went unnoticed by the men.

"Jocelyn, did she see?"

"Yes, she saw." answered Geoff.

"Did she see me take that hit before?"

"Yes, she saw you take the hit – I already told you …"

"And?" prompted Will eagerly, sighing at his herald's blank look. "Was she concerned?"

Growing tired of such questions which were always put to him following a joust, Geoff rolled his eyes impatiently. "It was dreadful. Her eyes welled up. It was awful."

In spite of his flippant way of answering, that seemed to appease Will – but only for a second.

"And when she knew I had won?"

"May the saints lend me strength!" groaned Geoff, "The earth had never seen such rejoicing – satisfied?"

"You do but mock me!" complained Will.

"If you will ask foolish questions, you cannot expect other than foolish answers."

Finally Kate interrupted, like Geoff she too had heard enough of Jocelyn – they would neither of them have minded if he didn't go on so; twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it seemed. "Are you men going to stand there and yap all night? Honestly, you're worse than a bunch of old maids! Are we going to the tavern to celebrate or not?" she asked.

"TAVERN!" yelled Wat, obviously thinking of his stomach, again.

Roland nudged the writer in the ribs as they all followed Wat's enthusiastic lead, a smirk on his face. "I suppose now it'll be _you_ we have to listen to, waxing lyrical on that tavern girl again – you might be more wordy about it, but you're no better than Will, you daft git!"

"I resent that!" he protested, "_Wordy_ indeed! I believe _poetic_ is the term you are looking for …"

"Gobby, more like!" grinned Wat over his shoulder, though he never slowed his pace in his eagerness to get to the tavern and, more importantly, the food.

Geoff simply ignored such taunting and squared his shoulders as he too marched on. "I am not to blame; I cannot help myself – I cannot be held responsible for my actions, afflicted as I am …"

"Where have we heard that one before, I wonder?" mused Roland, "Perhaps someone should warn the poor girl Geoff's _afflictions_ usually result in a distinct lack of clothing on his part …"

"If I have to see your scrawny arse naked again …" warned Wat in a threatening voice, that thought being the only thing to actually stop him in his tracks and momentarily distract him from visions of food. "I will fong you, Chaucer! I'll rip off your arms and … and beat you … round the head with them … I'll … and … PAIN! Lots of pain!" he ranted, becoming so worked up he could hardly speak and his cheeks turning a similar shade of red to that of his hair.

However, the writer just smirked and pushed past him to fling open the door of the tavern and stride through. The others followed him, Wat close behind as thoughts of trying to satisfy his insatiable hunger once again took priority; and so, when Geoff stopped dead, they were all caught off guard – Wat knocking into him and almost sending him sprawling and Kate ending up almost squashed between Will and Roland.

"The strike is swift and true, my heart pierced by such an arrow …" Geoff announced theatrically, clutching at his chest as he stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on a figure across the room.

"Chaucer's been shot!" yelled Wat animatedly, completely oblivious to the concept of metaphor, "Someone's only gone and shot the bugger!"

"Your concern is touching …" said Geoff, not wanting to miss the chance to tease Wat in spite of everything. "But it is the arrow of the surest of archers which causes my heart to cease its beating – Cupid has found his target!"

"So you ain't dying or nothing then?"

"Only of heartache caused by longing …" the poet declared.

"Good, 'cos I want to be the one to KILL you!" shouted Wat before lunging at him furiously and having to be restrained by Will and Roland.

Geoff fended him off, all the while staring across the rowdy, crowded tavern.

"I must know more of her …" he murmured, before merely pushing them all aside and heading off in the direction of a redheaded young woman.

"I'll rip … and tear … and I'll … I'll FONG you!" hollered Wat, making the rest of the group laugh even as they clung to him and tried to wrestle him into a seat so they could watch the herald's quest.

_End Flashback_

Geoff had to smile to think of that day – that day ever etched on his memory as the day he was fated to learn more of the object of his affections, having until then only watched her from afar.

"Ah, Ellena …" he sighed, looking down at her and seeing she had dozed off again, nestled by his side and with one hand resting lightly on his chest. "Little did you know that, even then, you had been appointed keeper of my heart …"

Taking care not to wake her, he lifted her hand and pressed a tender kiss to its palm before replacing it on his chest, holding it to his heart. If only things could have been that simple …

TBC ...


	3. 3

Notes: Woah, it's really been a while since I updated this so big apologies to anyone waiting on an update - still, better late than never, yeah? :) Big thanks as well to everyone who's been reading and reviewing - it's always nice to know what people think!

3.

Although her eyes were closed, Ellena was not asleep but merely content to rest peacefully in Geoff's arms. At the sound of her name on his lips, she almost lifted her head, but instead she made no sign that she was awake and simply listened to his soothing voice. Touched by his words and the kiss to her hand, a little smile touched her lips and she snuggled closer to him.

"I hope I didn't cause you to wake …" came his voice and she opened her eyes – she never could keep anything from him.

"I wasn't asleep." she explained in order to reassure him, knowing how he worried about her lately. "I just didn't want to bother getting up when we were so comfortable."

"And quite right!" he agreed, "There could be no more pleasant way to spend the day than tucked up here with you …"

"But didn't you say there was somewhere you had to be this morning?"

"Yes, love – William requires my services as herald at the tournament, but never fear; I'll make sure you are not left alone and …" he stopped dead and then sat bolt upright. "Oh my giddy aunt!" he groaned, "The tournament – I'm late!"

He leapt out of bed and began pulling on the nearest clothes he could find while Ellena watched in great amusement. Then he stopped in his tracks again and turned to her, but she already knew what he was thinking.

"I'll be fine – don't worry!" she said, sitting up and wrapping the blankets around herself. "I just wish I could go to hear you; how the crowd get behind you …

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea just yet …" Geoff said after a moment's thought. "And I'm sure Will would understand if I was to be … absent – he could always hire another herald just this once … I mean, his entrance wouldn't have quite the same flair to it, but as long as he wins …"

Ellena couldn't help chuckling as she watched the look on his face, seeing him try to hide his true feelings. "Another herald just wouldn't live up to your high standards, would he?" she said fondly, "It's alright, Geoff – I know how you love to get the crowd fired up."

"It does give a certain feeling of satisfaction to ignite such passion with a few choice words … but who says I could not achieve the same effect outside the arena ..." he whispered suggestively in her ear, shooting her a charming smile and a wink, making her swat lightly at his arm. "Alright, my love, I shall silence my wayward tongue …"

"Ha, I'd like to see you try!" she laughed disbelievingly.

"You need only say the word and I shall tell Will I am otherwise engaged – he would understand, you know …"

"No, Geoff, go to the tournament – I will be perfectly fine." she insisted.

"Very well, as long as you are quite sure, my love – I feel you should rest anyway …" Geoff said turned to complete the task of readying himself. "And trouble yourself not about anything, I will return post-haste to ensure all is well and should you need me, you need only send word to the arena …"

"Stop worrying about me, Geoff." she smiled, cupping his cheek with her hand as he paused to lean down to kiss her. "Now go, dazzle the crowds!"

"I always do!" he grinned with a little bow as he left the room, touching his fingers to his lips as a last farewell before departing hastily, leaving Ellena to curl up beneath the bed covers again and lose herself in thoughts of how she had come to love this man.

_Flashback_

"Wench! WENCH!" came the roar from the tavern owner as he spotted two of his tavern maids engaged in gossip instead of serving paying customers, a sound which send them both hurrying back to their assigned tasks fearfully. He was not a man to be crossed and both women knew it, though one better than the other for she was his daughter.

The pretty redhead was all too well aware that her father lived to make money and that everything, including his family, came a distant second. He was, for a mere peasant, reasonably well-off and yet he was still as miserly as ever. He owned both his tavern, popular with locals and travellers alike, and a sizable farm on the village outskirts and worked his family mercilessly to run them both. His quiet, unquestioning wife kept home while his three sons ran the farm and he ran the tavern, employing his only daughter as a maid though he knew the work to be unpleasant at times.

Ellena loathed the job more often than not – she didn't mind the hard work, having long since grown accustomed to it and she was glad to be out of the house, meeting more people than she would at home. However, many of their patrons did not seem to know the amount of ale they could indulge in before they would become riotous and she often had to endure grubby, grabbing hands, foul remarks and the like. Yet, what choice did she have? And she had to admit, it wasn't all bad …

Finally being allowed a short break after hours of tiring work, she caught up with the young woman she had earlier been caught chatting too and they glanced around furtively before continuing their conversation.

"So who is he?" her co-worker asked eagerly.

"I still don't know – I was on my way home and didn't dare be late so I couldn't spare much time …"

"Couldn't spare time for a gentleman who compliments you like that! Ellena!" came the shocked squeal, but the redhead merely laughed.

"And what would have come of it, Harriet? A gentleman and a serving wench? It's a ridiculous notion!"

"He clearly didn't think so!"

"It's always late and growing dark when I see him – I don't think he realises … what I really am. Though if he was to think straight he would know no _lady_ would be out at such a time unaccompanied …"

"But he wasn't thinking straight – because of _you_! Oh, Ellena, it's not fair – you're so lucky!"

More laughter from the girl at that. "Well, I think that's the first time anyone has said _that_!" she said wryly, thinking of her unpleasant job and what she often had to endure at home.

"Please! Not one but _two_ admirers …" Harriet insisted.

"Two?! Who is the other?"

"Your poet friend who comes in here with the jousters …"

"He is NOT my admirer!"

"He always makes sure he's served by you and he always starts spouting that poetic nonsense of his when he sees you – what else would you have me call him? And you always get that little smile on your face when you see him …"

"He's … He makes everyone smile." She tried to fob off her friend casually. "He's just a … a flirt – it doesn't mean anything … And anyway, we had best get back to work – we have more customers. Oh! Harriet, don't look!"

"What?" gasped her friend, starting as the other girl grabbed her arm suddenly and turning to see what had provoked such a reaction.

"I said not to look!" Ellena scolded, but she was unable to resist glancing around herself. "That's him! That's the man I keep bumping into in the village!"

Eager to get a good look, Harriet ignored her friend's protests and stared over at the group of men, realising which one was the subject of their conversation from the description Ellena had given and turning back with a shocked look on her face.

"What?"

"Ellena, I don't think you should have encouraged him at all – if he finds out you're only a peasant, he'll think you were trying to make a fool of him." Harriet said anxiously.

"But I meant no such thing – why should he think that?" Ellena asked, puzzled by this sudden change in attitude.

"Don't you know who that is?" Harriet asked, the same fearful, awe-struck look on her face. But the bewilderment in Ellena's eyes showed that she certainly did not and Harriet shook her head in disbelief. "That's Lord Adhemar!" she whispered, drawing a gasp from the startled redhead.

_End flashback_

A shiver ran down Ellena's spine at the memory. Geoff was right – it would never do for her to be at the tournament and risk being spotted by Adhemar so soon. She just wished she had never laid eyes on the man and didn't know how she could ever have had a good opinion of him – she had been such a fool. What she would have done had it not been for Geoff … It didn't bear thinking about.

to be continued...


End file.
